Trevor hit send, then watched through his binoculars as the blue Sentra exited the off ramp and entered the rest stop. It was 1:41 am. Chest thumping, he scrambled through the dense thicket to get closer. In his haste, he tripped on the twisted underbrush and flew face first into the ground.
“Fuck!” he scoffed, collecting himself and racing to the light line. But he was late. The Sentra had parked and someone was already walking into the bathroom.
“Damnit!”
A gurgling, rusty pickup rolled into the parking lot just as his pocket vibrated. It parked three down from the Sentra and cut its engine. The driver sat motionless and Trevor ached with butterflies, studying his bearded face and worn craw daddies cap. The door opened and the man stepped out carrying a massive railroad hammer. Approaching the bathroom, he let it drag on the ground, moaning with a tired evil as it scraped the bumpy, cement sidewalk. At the door, he let it speak.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“It’s occupied!” a muddled voice replied. Trevor couldn’t tell the sex. He resented the binoculars now. He was too far away and they made everything feel like a movie. He wanted the real thing. But that would mean crossing the light line. Here, in the dark thick he was small and invisible. There, against the back of the building, he’d be partially visible, even at his size, from the highway. Worry, exhilaration, nervousness all wrestled inside him, but were overwhelmed by a primal urge, “Get closer!”
He closed his eyes, leapt into the light and ran to the back wall. Slamming into it, his binoculars swung around and smacked the cement with a clank. The door banging stopped.
Boom!
The hammer obliterated the lock. The person inside screamed and fell into something inside. A hard kick exploded the door open, smashing something metallic on the wall and sending it crashing to the floor.
The screams grew louder and Trevor imagined the man’s boots coming towards them. He envisioned a black man, a white woman, or a gay, a latino; all rotating faces on the floor seeing the bloody hammer and realizing the foolishness of stopping so late at this place.
Trevor craned below the sealed window to hear every desperate note of their pleas. Putting his hand on the wall, he felt every vibration of violence on his fingertips and formed a sonar map of the gruesome scene in his mind.
One of the stall walls crashed to the floor.
Were they fighting him off? Were they trying to get away? More detail was needed, so he pressed his ear to the wall. He could hear desperate inhales of blood and air as the person whimpered, “Please! Please, no!” His hand could feel their nails on the wall, clawing, trying to escape. He tried to mirror their placement with his own. The boots moved off and Trevor wished he was taller so he could see through the window.
The hammer’s head started moaning again. It made Trevor light-headed.
“No! Mommy. Mommy, help me.” The voice whimpered as the clawing intensified.
The room went silent. Trevor could see everything. The hammer rising over the heaving chest of the mad man’s flannel flapping chest; all the faces on the floor begging in a silent scream, their eyes playing a stream of their lives and reflecting back his caricatured, rage-filled smile and the hammer coming down. It crashed into their skull with a devastating crunch.
Trevor heard the bones shatter then felt a jolt to the wall as the metal hammerhead was embedded in it, knocking out a huge chunk of cement. Startled, he pulled away, not noticing he had a full erection. Adrenaline was rushing through him, and he devoured it, until the boots clomped towards the door. His mind shouted, “Run!”
He darted across the grass to the safety of the tree line. He crouched into the shadowed thicket as the man rounded the corner. He walked to where Trevor was eavesdropping and touched the wall. Starting at his chest, he moved his hand lower until he felt warmth at the height of his waist. He smiled and over his shoulder yelled, “Thanks again, kid.”
Trevor watched him get back in his truck and drive off, then turned to his phone. The screen read, “Anon tip leads police to 4th rest stop victim.” Wide eyed, he hit refresh.